Tonight, We Die
by mr moniker
Summary: Haru was a zombie fanatic. She even liked to plan for imaginary zombie apocalypses rather than listen to her math teacher blabber on about theorems. She just never imagined that because of this, she'd saved herself from dying in one…for now, anyway.
1. Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse

Haru went to an elite all-girl school, yes, but she didn't let that define who she was. She wasn't a snob, a workaholic, or an arrogant person. No, she was a bit of an airhead, upbeat, and enthusiastic.

She also really loved weird things. Weird, deformed, scary, or ugly – it didn't matter, she loved it. That was the kind of girl she was – one who liked weird (and cute, too) things. Things most of her friends would turn their noses up at. She never told anyone about it, though. It was one of the things she liked to keep behind closed doors. After all, girls like her at a school like Midori Middle didn't – or rather, _shouldn't_– waste time thinking things like what to do if zombies randomly stood by their classroom's doorway, or have a vast collection of zombie movies.

But then again, she along with many of her fellow classmates did not fit the elitist trope everyone seemed to love to throw their way because where they attended school. This was why, rather than paying close attention to what new math concepts her teacher was teaching to the class, she was mulling over what was the worst type of zombies. Yes, she did these things in math class. It wasn't an issue for her; math was her best subject. And if she didn't understand a concept, she could easily go to her father about it.

So she tuned out her teacher and thought of zombies.

Well, she _was_ doing that, until someone began pounding against the door. Her teacher set her book down on her desk and opened the door – and then, her teacher screamed and blood splattered on the pristine white floors of her classroom.

…*…

**Prologue. **

Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse.

…*…

At first, Haru thought that they were in store for a school shooting. But that didn't make any sense – wouldn't her school have announced a lock down? Plus she hadn't heard any gun fire either...

"What the hell are they doing?" a classmate of hers, Ayumi, screeched. Her finger was pointed at their teacher's attacker, or rather, _attackers_. It was five or so students sporting the Midori Middle school uniform. They were hovering over the fallen body of their teacher and were…_eating her_?

Haru froze. They were…they were _zombies_ weren't they? She felt sick to her stomach. _They were zombies!_ They didn't look at all like it, though – in fact, if it were for the large missing chunks of skin that no normal person would be alive and walking around with, they'd be disregarded as perfectly healthy and cannibalistic teens eating her math teacher.

But…how? How'd they become like that? Maybe it was a synthetic plague that the government was working on that got unleashed. _Hahi!_ Maybe it was an experiment – or voodoo priest's spell – gone awry. Or aliens.

She felt her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Her hands were slick with sweat. She wiped them on her skirt. What the heck was she doing? Why was she thinking up reason for why those teens were what they were? It didn't matter right now! What did was her getting the hell out of here – and quickly! Her teacher could only satisfy them before they went after the rest of them.

_Run to the windows, _her mind urged her. But she couldn't. She was, as lame as it sounded, frozen with fear. Only after the zombies slowly removed themselves from their deceased teachers did she begin to run toward the windows.

_Get out, get out, get out._ It was like a mantra. She yanked the window open and jumped out. They were on the first floor; the most she'd get was a little dirty.

Standing up, she brushed her skirt. She turned toward the opened window. "Get out of there!" Haru told her classmates. Only a handful obliged and leaped out of the windows. Several others chose to cower in fear, or try to escape through the doorway.

As much as she'd love to help them all, Haru had more pressing matters to do. Like finding her family and getting them to a safe place. She couldn't afford to die here and now_._ And of course, as the fantastic Agent K from that American movie called _Men in Black_ once said, "A person is smart; people are dumb, panicky, dangerous animals, and you know it."

So she ran home instead of help her classmates. It was a bit cruel of her to do such a thing, but her family would always be put first. But as she ran home, Haru couldn't help be feel the adrenaline pumping through her. In that tiny, twisted corner of her mind with her deepest and cruelest thoughts, she was excited about this.

Things like this only happened in movies. But now? Now it was magically real.

She pinched her arm. Grinned.

"Yep, this is definitely real."

…*…

Tsuna was tired of school, tired of his classmates, but mostly, tired of himself. He was sick of being so useless, sick of being "No Good Tsuna." But since people couldn't change so easily, so he was stuck with it. For now, at least.

He stared out the window of the bus, resting his head against the cool glass. Stores, people, and cars zoomed past him. He managed to score a vacant seat all the way in the back of the bus. This was, what? The fifth time he skipped school this month? His mom would probably give him the "I'm so disappointed in you, why are you useless, Tsuna?" speech.

Sometimes he just hated people and society. He hated that in order to live a good decent life; he had to meet the standards that people in the past established. He just wished it'd all go away – school, his classmates, _society_.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU _- MY HAND! MY HAND! OH MY FUCKING GOD, LET ME GO! NO! NOOOO!"_

"WHAT'S GOING ON?"

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE, HOLY FUCK WE'RE GOING TO DIE!"

"PRAY, EVERYONE PRAY! PRAY TO GOD! REPENT! _OH LORD IN HEAVEN_-!"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"_MY EYES!_ _MY EYES!_ ARGUUUHHH!"

_"-FORGIVE MY SINS, FORGIVE THE SINS OF MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS. OH LORD IN - AUGH! MY NECK, MY NECK!"_

"GET ME OFF THIS FUCKING BUS!"

"BUS DRIVER, STOP THIS FUCKING THING!"

He whipped his head around and faced the commotion – oh how Tsuna wished he hadn't. A man was biting into the neck of a woman. A child had blood dribbling down his chin and a severed hand in his mouth. A woman gouged the eyes out of a teenaged boy and began to eat them.

Tsuna screamed so loudly that he knew that he wouldn't be able to talk for a while. That is, if he lived long enough.

…*…

Haru's father was a zombie. Okay, so she wasn't expecting that. Not at all. Her father was a zombie and he was trying to kill her – how'd she be able to expect that? Well, no, he was trying to eat her at which she'd die and then become a zombie too. But she'd still die either way, so yes, he was trying to kill her.

He didn't look like one, a zombie that is – really, he didn't. He still had that same, fatherly look to him. His face wasn't all rotting and disgusting. They only way she could tell that he should've been dead was the fact that she could see his ribcage. A large chunk of skin and clothing that would normally cover his ribcage was missing. And his eyes. His dead, vacant eyes. Those were the only two ways she could tell.

He was a zombie, no doubt about it.

And he was going to kill her if she didn't do anything.

The smile from earlier was wiped off her face and all previous adrenaline she had vanished. Only terror was left inside of her. She clutched the knife she managed to snatch from the kitchen before being driven out in the living room close to her. She had a sucky weapon. She was a bit of an airhead. She was bubbly and enthusiastic. If she had blond hair, she'd be set for that dumb girl who dies first in a low-budget horror film.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. _Oh god._

"Haru," her father said. God, he even sounded the same. "Haru, I love you so much. Come give your father a hug. C'mere. Put the knife down, dear. Give your old man a hug."

Her gut twisted around. She tightened her grip around the blade. It was possibly the worst weapon to have for a zombie apocalypse. And…and could she even kill her own father? Was he even her father anymore? He was dead. Infected. Zombiefied. He…he wasn't _really _her father right?

She raised the knife and charged at him.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

…*…

Tsuna was insane. It was official, he had gone crazy. Or he was dreaming. But the cuts on his knees and hands told him otherwise. Oh gosh. Why'd he jump off that bus? A moving bus, no less!

He was insane.

_This _was insane, too. What the hell happened back there? He shuddered. There was no need to bring those thoughts back up - if he did, he was afraid he might bring some of his breakfast up, too. He looked around; his house was pretty close by. He'd head there disinfect himself. Then…the he'd watch the news. Maybe they put a warning about some serial cannibals in the city and he missed it?

Yeah.

That was it. That was probably all there was to the matter. Cannibals. Crazy cannibals.

…*...

"Why, why would do that, sweetie?" Haru's father asked, blood dripping from the cut on his arm. "Why would you raise such a weapon at your old man? Have you no respect?"

After creating the cut, Haru made as much distance away from him as possible and took a moment to recover, but he was too fast. Within seconds, he covered the distance between them and jumped at her. She pushed herself back, but he managed to grab her wrist. He leaned over and bit into her left hand.

He began to gnaw at her hand.

Oh god.

_He was eating her hand._

Oh god. _Oh god._

She didn't know what came over her next. All she knew was that she had brought the knife down and stabbed in the back of his head. She then ripped it out and stabbed him again and again until he stopped moving – until he stopped trying eating her hand.

She then tore her hand away from his mouth. Several of her fingers were missing. It was a disgusting sight. While she liked deformed things, she had her standards. This…this was just…_oh god._

She retched her breakfast down onto the wooden floor of her living room. She'd have to cut her hand off now, lest she become one of the Infected like him. She headed for the kitchen and found the large butcher knife she sometimes used when it was her turn to cook dinner. She set her repulsive hand on the counter.

She held her breath. She'd first break her wrist, then remove the arm, and then stop the bleeding with a tourniquet – she was lucky her mother's paranoia made her think that, after hearing about that hiker who had to cut his arm off in the wildness, Haru and her father would somehow be forced to cut their own limbs in a life or death situation.

Okay.

She sighed.

_Okay._

"Deep breathes, Haru," she told herself. The room was starting to spin. She shook her head, and for a moment, everything stilled. "We're doing this in one…two…three."

_Snap!_

She took a sharp intake of breath. That hurt like hell, but it was for her survival. She held up the knife. Time seemed to slow as she brought the knife down.

_Slash!_

Blood managed to get on her face. Her right hand – the uncut one – was shaking and her tears streamed down her face. But whatever, she had to do this. She would not allow herself to die so easily. She'd live. She'd live. She would not die. She would definitely _not_ die by the hands of her zombiefied father.

"F-finally," she muttered as she got the tourniquet on her wrist. And just like that, the bleeding stopped. She leaned against the counter, suddenly feeling very dizzy. She closed her eyes. Sweat trickled down her face. Fuck. What if she died from shock or blood loss? She didn't even take that into account. _Fuck. _Sometimes she was the dumbest person in existence.

She tensed immediately at the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming down stairs. But who would that–?

Wait.

_Her mother._

She snapped her eyes opened. If her mother went to work at five pm, meaning that she would most definitely be home. And if had come into contact with her father….

Oh god.

_Oh god no._

…*…

"…Mom?" Tsuna frowned. The lights were off. Was she not home? He walked into the kitchen. Light streamed in from the windows. He headed over to the counter and opened the drawers where his mom kept the gauze and alcohol rub.

He turned the tap on and ran the water over his hands. It felt nice. He then cupped some of the water and brought it down his to his knees.

_Splash!_

Damn. Not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Now the floor was wet. His socks, too. Great. Tsuna ran over to the counter and grabbed some paper towels. Quickly as he could, he cleaned up the mess. Now, to clean up his wounds.

He poured some rubbing alcohol onto a paper towel and pressed it against his knees, then his hands. He hissed at the sharp pain the alcohol rub caused. When he finished with that, he wrapped his hands and knees with the gauze. He was in the midst of putting the alcohol rub away when he saw a figure standing by the doorway in his peripheral vision.

"Oh, hi mom," he muttered.

"Tsuna," she sighed. "What will I do with you? You're so useless!"

He lowered his head. "Sorry."

"You need to make your Mama proud," she continued. Her breath tickled his skin. When'd she get behind him? "Do you know how to make your Mama proud?"

He slinked away from her. Great, she was acting weird and embarrassing again! However, this time, she grabbed his arm. Her eyes narrowed.

"If you want to make Mama proud, Tsuna," she continued, her was smile somehow more sinister than usual. "You need to die like Mama."

…*…

Hands snaked around her neck. They stayed there. They were choking her. Haru couldn't breath, she couldn't breath, _oh god she couldn't breathe_. Her mother was choking her, _killing her._ Zombies didn't do this! They weren't supposed to kill people through these means!

"I'm sorry, dearie," her mother told her, acting as if she had read her mind. "I just like my meals dead."

"Let…me…go!" she wheezed, using whatever little strength she had to jab the knife into where she hoped was somewhere remotely near her mother.

"_You little bitch!" _her mother screamed, punching the side of Haru's head. Haru staggered. Everything was blurred. She swayed and almost fell. She just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Why on earth did she get excited over something like this? _What was her problem? _

"…Live…got to…live." Haru readied the knife in her hand and charged at the blur what was her mother. She aimed for her head area, hoping to land a hit somewhere vital.

Time slowed again.

The knife met with something thankfully, but it said wherever she had stabbed. Her mother fell to the ground. Did she hit her temple? Her forehead? Eyes? Haru didn't know – she was glad to not know. She…she had to kill another one of her parents. Why'd she think this would be cool?

Why…_why on earth was she excited about this?_

The dark red of her mother's blood stood out on Haru's pale face. She felt sick. She vomited what little food was in her system. Her face was wet with sweat and blood. Breathing hard, Haru headed toward her front door, nearly falling over twice. She had to get out. She had to find…help.

She had to…

She had…

She…

Survive…

Not…

Die…

…*…

"Mama…what are you doing?" Tsuna was on all fours now. After ducking way from her clutches – something he always did whenever she tried to pinch his cheeks or ruffle his hair – he could've sworn she was trying to _bite _him.

"Mama needs to kill you, sweetie," she explained, acting as if she hadn't just stated she was going to kill her only son. "Then, only then, will you do Mama proud."

"S-s-stop kidding around, Mama." His grip around the alcohol rub tightened. He didn't even remember taking it with him. The cap, which he probably didn't screw on tightly, came loose and rolled on the floor.

It stopped just short of his mother. She looked down at it before returning her gaze to Tsuna. "You've got to die, sweetie. Die with you Mama, c'mon, do it."

"M-ma-mama," he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think-k you need to take a rest."

And then he blinked, and in that instant, she her hand found it's way on his throat. "Ah, don't disappoint me now, Tsuna," she told him. "You can't now, you just can't. I've let you disappoint me for far too long now. Do your Mama proud, honey, just die."

Her hands closed around his throat. In some form of panicked instinct, he threw the alcohol rub bottle at her face.

"MY EYES!" she shrieked, releasing him and covering her eyes. "_MY EYES!_ YOU STUPID LITTLE – _MY EYES! HOW COULD YOU? _TO YOUR OWN MOTHER, TOO? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU SO I CAN KILL YOU? COME HERE THIS INSTANCE, YOU NO GOOD CHILD!"

With her now temporarily blinded, he bolted for the door not looking back once. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Not after that. He didn't know where he was heading for, but it sure as hell wasn't back there.

"I'm so so so sorry, Mama!"

…*…

He didn't know what to expect, really. He waltzed into the neighborhood, guns ready to exterminate any of the Infectees. Of course, his guns were ready for everything and anything –_especially _his target.

However, what he did not expect to see was a dying girl on lying in the doorway of what he assumed to be her house. Nor did he expect to see two Infectees inside of the girl's house, both dead. One, a man, had several severed fingers in his mouth and stab wounds in the back of his head. The other, a woman, had a butcher's knife lodged in her temple.

He examined the dying girl. Her left hand was cut off. He guessed that the man had bitten her hand she was smart enough to amputate her hand before the Project kicked in.

Smart girl. Resourceful, too. Not bad on the eyes either – in fact, she sort of, in a tiny way, reminded him of…ah. He felt a hand grab and squeeze his heart. He couldn't even utter her name yet. How sad. Depressing, even.

Regardless, he was still a paid killer – a hitman. One with a job. A job that would be done _without _the usage of his useless feelings.

_Logical people live prosperously. Stupid, weak people who let their emotions get the best of them ultimately die, _he reminded himself.

He adjusted the black fedora hat on his head. Smirked. Bent over and hauled the girl over his shoulder. "Ciaossu," he told her, well-aware she couldn't hear him. "I'm Reborn. I like you. You seem useful, so I think I'll keep you."

* * *

><p><em>"When there's no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth.<em>

**Peter**, _Dawn of the Dead_ (1978)


	2. Two Breaths Walking

They'd been together for two weeks. Two weeks and Reborn still didn't even know her name. He didn't even know what she _sounded _like, either. So he just started calling her "kid." She didn't mind, though. Actually, she didn't mind anything. She was fine with everything.

There was so much wrong with that. She was, what? A middle schooler? And she was totally fine with providing company to an older man – a dashing older man, mind you – with guns that he used to kill Infectees for the most part of his day.

Obviously one of them weren't right in the head, and Reborn was sure it was the girl. It unnerved him in some ways, her passiveness. She looked like an Infectee, too. Her eyes had a vacant and dead look to them. Sometimes he worried that she _was _infected, but he'd remind himself that he tested her right after he carried her out her home and she proved to be not infected.

She was handy – oh wow, no pun intended – he'll give her that much. That was mostly why he kept her around. She could cook a decent meal with whatever he managed to get from the empty houses or grocery stores that were sometimes flitted with Infectees. And after a brief lesson on the ways of the knife, it was slightly disturbing how well accustomed she was at using it after a course of two-weeks. With one hand, too.

"Up and at 'em, kid," he nudged her awake with his foot. She sat upright and stared at him with those dead eyes with a look he guessed was expectancy. He was getting better and better at figuring her out. "We're heading to a building that may or may not be filled with Infectees. Prepare yourself and try not to die."

The girl nodded, her right hand hanging loosely above her belt where she kept her knife. Her left sleeve extended well past her hand. It was a good thing, he didn't see the stub that was her left hand and he doubted she did either.

His hat cast a shadow over his eye. She was just a kid. _A kid._ What kind of…what kind of punk did things like this? What kind of kid was okay with such demands? She didn't even protest when he led her to an Infectee invested place. Not once. Not ever.

He clenched his fists. He had no time for emotions. Emotions killed people. Emotions were why _she_was dead. Emotions drove people to do crazy things. It was why _he _started all of this, after all. Emotions were useless. Logic was the only thing one would ever need.

Logic and a decent partner. He admitted to needing one. He admitted to needing someone to watch his back. He was the strongest hitman in the world, yes, but he still didn't have eyes in the back of his head. He still couldn't shoot every single Infectee out there.

He needed a partner. Kid or not, the girl would do.

…*…

**1.** Two Breaths Walking.

…*…

Tsuna was truly baffled as to how he was alive. Truly, he was. His town was littered with serial cannibals, and yet, _he was alive._ Not only that, but he managed to get some food and water. Albeit, he got them through immoral means – but no one was home at the houses and the doors were wide open! Did it really constitute as stealing? – but he still got them.

He had found himself at an empty park. Most of Namimori was empty – if he was lucky, that is. Other times he found himself with the serial cannibals. They really scared him. Was there a cult of them, or something? Gosh, this was just so messed up.

He pulled out a bottle of water from his bag and sat cross-legged on the park bench, drinking it in tiny sips. He remembered some book talking about not drinking too much water in one sitting when you're really thirsty. He smiled sadly to himself.

See, he wasn't so useless now. He…he…wasn't a disappointment. It wasn't his fault he didn't meet the standards of what everyone else wanted him to fit under. He could easily meet standards he made for himself.

"_You know how to make your Mama proud, Tsuna? Die like Mama."_

He shook the memory out of his head. He hated this. He hated remembering. He would not remember. He would not remember that day. _It didn't happen…it never happened._

Tears fell.

_It never happened. Mama didn't say any of that. She didn't try to kill me._

His nose was running.

_Dammit. She didn't do any of that!_

"Shit!" someone hissed. Wiping his nose, Tsuna looked around for the source. It was a boy's voice. Oh! It was that foreign boy in his homeroom, Gokudera. The one who hated him. A lot. And told Tsuna about it. A lot.

He was being chased by some serial cannibals….and dear gosh, _was he throwing dynamite at them?_Was he insane? He was going to kill those poor cannibals! Well, they kind of deserved it for trying to eat so many people…oh no!

"Fuck!" Gokudera cried as he tripped on his own feet. Three or four cannibals leapt in the air, hands ready to grab at him. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"HIIIEE! What do I do?" Tsuna cried. "What do I do? What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?"

He looked at a bottle of alcohol rub – surprisingly he managed to find four bottles in the different houses he visited - sticking out of his bag. He stared at it. "It worked the first time!" he cried.

He unscrewed the cap and threw at the cannibals. Time slowed as he watched the bottle and the cannibals soar through the air. He prayed that bottle would hit them and drive them away. He prayed his lack of athletic capabilities wouldn't hinder his attempt futile.

"_AUUUGH! MY EYES! MY EYES!"_

"_WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?_

"_WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS THAT BOY?"_

"_STOP, STOP YOU'RE BITING _ME _YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"_

"Run, Gokudera!" Tsuna cried as he zipped up and put his bag on. Gokudera didn't need to be told twice, within seconds he was on his feet and was running toward Tsuna.

He thumped Tsuna on the back when he reached him, almost causing the smaller boy to fall over. "I OWE YOU MY LIFE!"

"W-w-what?"

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"

"T-tsunayoshi S-sawada."

He suddenly did a ninety degree bow. "SAWADA-SAMA, FROM THIS DAY FORTH I WILL FOREVER BE INDEBTED TO YOU AND SERVE TO ONLY YOU!" He looked up at Tsuna, a large smile on his face. "I'll follow you forever! Command me to do anything!"

"_WHAT?"_ Tsuna all but screamed, and then he looked over at the cannibals. They were up on their feet, they were heading for them, and they were looking very angry.

_"RUN!" _

…*…

There was two Harus. The shell of Haru and the spirit of Haru. The spirit of Haru felt numb. She felt like she was at the dentist, but instead of numbing her gums, the dentist numbed her entire body. She felt like she was there, but wasn't.

The shell of Haru…was just a shell, really. Mostly shell Haru just followed whatever Fedora Man told her to do – she rarely listened to what spirit Haru had to say. Not that spirit Haru minded. She didn't feel like going back in there. Facing reality. Coming to terms with what happened.

_I killed my parents._

So she stayed away from her body. She embraced the numbness that came over her. She let shell Haru do what she want, close to never intervening. She let shell Haru fight as much as she wanted – shell Haru was really good with a knife. Spirit Haru would probably become an emotional mess if she even held a knife.

_I stabbed them to death._

Both Harus looked at the large building. It looked empty. Windows were shattered and glass was everywhere on the floor. Fedora Man looked at her and said, "Watch your step. Be careful."

…_My parents tried to kill me._

She nodded. Shell Haru was always careful. But shell Haru didn't like to talk much. Spirit Haru did, though. She wanted to ask Fedora Man what his name was, what he was doing here, why he saved her. Spirit Haru stared at her left arm, where a stump occupied where her hand once was – however shell Haru seemed to like hiding it underneath loose long-sleeved shirts. Spirit Haru looked away, her stomach clenching. Looking at the missing hand made her sick.

It also made her remember. But mostly, it made her wonder how Fedora Man managed to fix it up for her. Nonetheless she was grateful for it.

_My father tried to eat me._

Spirit Haru liked Fedora Man. He seemed nice –he _did _save her after all. His hair was a bit weird, but he was nice. But shell Haru didn't care. She didn't talk to him; didn't ask him anything, she was just…there.

_My mother tried to choke me to death._

Oh, it looked like they were in store for another fight with the zombies. Spirit Haru figured out which kind of zombies they were. They were plague-ridden zombies – the fast ones. The ones that didn't go through rigor mortis. The ones that weren't actually really dead. She watched a movie that zombies like that. It was an American one. She couldn't remember the name, though.

_Regardless, I still did it._

Both Harus hated that kind of zombie. Shell Haru pulled out her knife. Spirit Haru disappeared. She didn't want to watch when shell Haru used the knife. It reminded her of what happened two weeks ago. With…_them._

_I still…killed them. I still killed my parents._

…*…

"You're much more than I expected!" Gokudera admitted. "For putting yourself on the line, I'll place my life in your hands."

Tsuna squirmed in seat on the couch. They managed to get away from the cannibals, hiding out in an empty house. This, luckily, had no dead bodies or cannibals. After scouring the place for food and water, they barricaded the front door and were currently resting up in the living room. It kind of disturbed Tsuna of how quickly Namimori was turning into a ghost town. At this rate he wouldn't be surprised if the only inhabitants were only he, Gokudera, and a bunch of cannibals.

"T-there's no need for that!" Tsuna cried. "Really, it's fine. Being classmates is just fine."

Gokudera blinked. "What do you mean classmates – _oh!_ You're the useless kid in my class!"

Tsuna sighed. It seemed that no matter where he went that title followed him around. Oh well. "Yeah, I'm 'No Good Tsuna'."

Gokudera shook his head vehemently at that. "You're not no good! You're awesome, Sawada-sama!" he cried. "You saved my life! That definitely isn't useless. I'll blow up anyone who says otherwise!"

"W-where did you even get that dynamite from?" Tsuna said wearily. This guy…he was too much. Tsuna found himself missing the delinquent who proclaimed his hate for him and expressed it through beating him to a pulp.

"I found a building filled with some and took it," he unbuttoned his jacket and revealed rows and rows of dynamite attacked to the inside of it. "They're really helpful. I've killed lots of UMAs with 'em."

"U-umas?"

"Yeah, Unidentified Mysterious Animals – UMAs"

"Oh. Say, Gokudera?"

"Yeah?"

"Do…do you know why everything is like this? I mean, why isn't anyone helping us? Shouldn't there be, like, troops or something coming in and helping people?"

"Those lazy bastards probably don't even care about whether or not we die. They only care about their fucking money, probably. Bastards."

"Oh." Tsuna stared down at ground. The thought depressed him. Would he have to live like this all the time? Suddenly he felt very guilty. As silly as it was, somehow he felt his wish for society to just disappear was the cause for all this.

His eyes flickered to his tattered school uniform. He hadn't changed or bathed in a long time. Wow, he didn't know how long it had been since this had all started. "I'm going to check if they still have any water and clothes, and then wash up."

"OK!" Gokudera replied, standing up. "I'll search the kitchen for some more food."

But then, they both tensed heard something being unlocked. Tsuna froze. Gokudera swore.

_They forgot to barricade the back door._

* * *

><p>"If a man is destined to drown, he will drown even in a spoonful of water."<p>

**Yiddish proverb.**


	3. 1 Week Later

Yamamoto had a concussion from his last game that made him dead to the world for about a week. This was a usual thing for him. He'd get hit in the head by a fast ball when he wasn't wearing his helmet during practice – very stupid on his part – and then he'd be out like a light for about a week or two.

But…when he woke up, he'd usually wake up to the smell of sushi and be greeted by his dad who'd ruffle his hair, hand him a large glass of water, and tell him to be more careful next time.

Today was not that day.

The house was eerily quiet and the lights were off. He headed down stairs and into the kitchen, switching the lights on. The room was really dirty and it looked like his father had gotten in a fight or something with someone. To his horror, he noticed blood on the kitchen table.

Perhaps he'd stop a fight between two customers and was the station to give his statement? That had happened before, it was probably it. That's why he didn't have enough time to clean up, either.

Yamamoto pulled out a bottle of water from the kitchen and gulped it down greedily. He frowned at the sight of his father's Shigure Kintoki that was lying on the counter, covered in blood.

"H-hello?" Yamamoto said. "Dad? Are you here?"

Something behind the kitchen table shot up. His father stood. Smiled at him. "Good morning, son," he said. "I totally forgot you were up there, sleeping the days away."

Yamamoto paled.

His father titled his head. Flashed a confused look. "What is it, son?"

"Yo…your face…" Yamamoto snatched bloodied shinai and ran the opposite direction of where he came, ignoring his father's cries. Something brushed against the back of his neck. It was a hand. His father's hand. Yamamoto blindly swung the wooden sword at him.

_Slash! _

He didn't dare turn his head back as he yanked the back door open. He didn't stop to wonder why a wooden sword would be able to cut something like that. He didn't even notice the blood that stained the back of his shirt. He ignored his burning lungs, his sore legs, and his spinning head.

He just kept running.

"Just keeping going," he told himself. "Keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop. Run."

So he ran. He ran as far as he legs could take him. And when he could run no longer, he stopped. He stopped just short of a backyard. He stared at the shinai in his hands that was drenched with blood yet again. He wondered how it could slice as it did just then. He noticed the blood that stained the back of his shirt. His lungs burned. His legs ached. The world was a world of wild, pulsating colors.

His father's face flashed through his mind. The face of a man that shouldn't have been able to stand. The face of a man who shouldn't have been able to speak to him. Shouldn't have been able to grab at him.

Shouldn't have been alive.

_Half of his father's head was missing. _

Yamamoto doubled over and dry-heaved.

…*…

**2.** 1 Week Later.

…*…

The smell of the burning flesh brought tears to shell Haru's eyes and vomit to her throat. She held it in, choosing to swing blindly at whatever came toward her. The stupid zombies somehow managed to set the building on fire, so now she and Fedora Man were fighting dead people _who were on fire. _

"Hahi!" Shell Haru squeaked. Something shot out and grabbed her hand. She reared her foot toward her attacker's crotch, silently praying they were male. Not that a crotch-attack wasn't affective to females as well, it just seemed to be even more affective on men.

"What," Fedora Man hissed. "The hell are you doing, kid? Are you trying to render me sterile?"

Shell Haru yanked her arm away and flashed him an apologetic look. Or she tried to. Shell Haru couldn't muster any look aside from a dead, vacant one.

Fedora Man sighed, adjusting his hat. It bothered shell Haru how his hat always seemed to remain in tact despite everything. His suit, too. Shell Haru's clothes were constantly painted with dirt and blood forcing her to steal whatever clothes she could find in the places they went to. Today she managed to find a white jump suit and large, rubber black boots. Only the jumpsuit wasn't so white right now.

"Let's get out of here," Fedora Man said, grabbing her arm and leading her out of the burning building.

Spirit Haru wondered why he wanted them to go into the building in the first place. She wondered what was so important about checking the building out and those papers he had stuffed in the inside pocket of his suit.

_Ask him_, spirit Haru urged. _Ask for spirit Haru. _

"Fedora Man," she said. She frowned. She had almost forgotten what her voice sounded like.

He turned to her, surprised. "You can talk?"

"Of course I can talk," she replied. "Anyway, Haru wants to know why you needed those papers. What are they, government documents?"

"Why the sudden curiosity, kid?"

"Haru wants to know. Tell us."

"Don't feel like it."

"Fine, Haru will guess," she said, pausing for a second while spirit Haru thought of all the many plots she'd seen in zombie movies. "You're some sort of person in the government. You're involved with an experiment gone awry. You need to find the guy behind the experiment. You heard he was hiding out in Namimori. You needed someone to watch your back from the zombies, and so you chose us. You're going to the places you were told he'd be in, also picking up information on the nature of the experiment. Is Haru right or is Haru right?"

His hat cast a shadow over his eyes. "And how, might I ask, did you come to the conclusion of that?"

She shrugged, the corners of her lips twitched upward. Her eyes still looked dead, though.

"Haru likes to watch zombie movies."

…*…

Tsuna raised his bottle of rubbing alcohol, petrified. Gokudera, who had some managed to light a cigarette without Tsuna knowing, held up three or four sticks of dynamite. They were standing in the kitchen of the house, where the back door was. The person or cannibal had somehow managed to pick the lock.

They had forgotten to barricade the back door. How could they have been so _stupid_?

If it was a cannibal, they would immobilize them and then throw into the basement. Or at least, that's what Tsuna hoped would happen. He prayed that Gokudera was thinking the same thing. Looking at the dynamite the silver-haired boy's hands, he doubted it.

The door swung open. Their grips on their respective weapons – well, Tsuna couldn't really call what he had a weapon – tightened. Tsuna held his breath. He raised the bottle as the figure's features became clearer.

Tsuna dropped the bottle. Gokudera's cigarette fell.

_"Yamamoto-san!" _

…*…

Reborn was much happier when the girl – Haru, it seemed her name was – was silent. She irritated him. He wanted to shoot her. But he couldn't. She was a lady. He was a gentleman. That's how things worked. Gentlemen did not shoot ladies.

"This is the twentieth century," Haru told him, plucking another chip the bag of chips she had raided from a vending machine from somewhere in the office they were in. "Chivalry is dead."

"Okay then." Reborn shot at her feet, purposely missing – he'd never kill the girl; he was better than that. He should stop voicing his thoughts out loud, though. Ah, it didn't matter. What _did_ matter was finding _him _and wringing his neck. Well, no, he'd first get him to create a cure for all this bullshit, dump all over Japan, and _then _wring his neck.

Reborn smirked.

"Reborn-san?" He rolled his eyes. He really wished that girl would go back to being mute.

"What is it?"

"Haru wants to know if you're a lolicon – _HAHI!_"

Yeah. He really, _really _wished that she would go back to being mute. Stupid girl.

…*…

Hibari leaned his back and stared at the orange-colored skies. Night would soon fall and then those disgusting herbivores would be out. Not that they weren't out now. He'd seen them all over his glorious school, committing the illegal act of eating other students.

They also tried to eat him, too. And yet, no matter how many times he'd beaten them down, more and more would come and attack him. On several occasions they've tried to bite him, scratch him, eat him, kill him.

He angrily remembered when they nearly crushed him to death with the school's vending machine. His mind also had the nerve to remind him that he was alone on this. That he'd have no Kusakabe or Disciplinary Committee with him to stop the hoard of herbivores who foolishly believed that they were carnivores.

He yawned.

It didn't matter whether he had the Disciplinary Committee with him or not. What they really did was crowd him. That's it. He'd be fine alone. He was always fine alone. He liked being alone. Crowding with herbivores irritated him to no end.

Hibari sat up and rolled up his pant leg and stared at the long gash on his thigh – it was healing, thankfully. He didn't know if they had clawed him with their jagged and long nails or if they had cut him with a weapon. He rolled his pant leg down and leaned back down. It didn't matter.

He would be fine alone, he always was.

* * *

><p>"To dare to live alone is the rarest courage; since there are many who had rather meet their bitterest enemy in the field, than their own hearts in their closet."<p>

**Charles Caleb Colton.**


	4. Chance Meetings

"And that's what happened," Yamamoto explained, downing his third class of water. After barricading the back door as well as the windows, he explained his situation to Tsuna and Gokudera – well, almost all of it. He left out the small detail of his father out. He was surprised that they allowed him to stay with little problem.

Well, no, Gokudera vehemently opposed him being there, exclaiming that Yamamoto might be one of the UMAs (whatever that was), but he assured them that he wasn't like what he guessed his father had become. He had no intentions to eat their flesh and whatnot.

His smile fell, as he stared sadly at the shinai in his hands. His father. He…he was just sick or something. He didn't really want to hurt Yamamoto, right? He wasn't trying to kill him just then and Yamamoto hadn't slashed him with his own swords – wooden swords couldn't even _do _that! Nope. That was stupid. His smile reappeared. He was just allowing his idiocy to get the best of him again.

"So," Yamamoto said. "What's good to eat here? Do you have sushi?"

"We are in the middle of a war with the UMAs," Gokudera hissed. "Thousands have died and food - if it isn't now, it will be – is scarce. We're lucky as it is to have the water not shut off here. And you have the nerve to ask if there is any _sushi_? Are you mentally retarded, you baseball freak?"

"Hiiie!" Tsuna cried. "Gokudera-san, calm down! Please!"

Gokudera glared at Yamamoto before turning to Tsuna and saying, "Yes, Sawada-sama. I apologize."

"I-I told you to stop calling me that! Just call me Tsuna!"

"My sincerest apologizes, Tsuna-sama."

Tsuna groaned.

Yamamoto chuckled, setting his father's sword down on the floor next to his feet. He was with good company. It was a bit funny how life worked. If it weren't for the horrible things happening now – Tsuna told him that he believed that a cult of serial cannibals were in Namimori – he highly doubted that he would've befriended the smartest and most vicious boy in school, Gokudera, and the loser of the school, Tsuna.

It was funny, because he really liked them. They made him forget, for the most part anyway, what had just happened to between him and his father with their amusing antics. It was a shame that he had only met them through something as horrific as this.

He doubted that he would have met them otherwise.

…*…

3. Chance Meetings.

…*…

It was Haru's turn to take watch. Reborn – spirit Haru was a little sad his name wasn't actually Fedora Man – was resting a few feet away form her, his fedora covering the upper part of his face. They decided to camp out in the backyard of an empty house, choosing to stay on the deck of the house. Reborn never liked resting inside the houses of other people for some weird reason.

She looked up at the night sky. It was a nice night. It wasn't too cold, or too hot. The moon lit up the sky and cast ominous shadows all around the neighborhood.

Slowly kicking her feet back and forth, she stared at Reborn. He had weird sideburns, she decided. They were unnaturally long and curled at the end. It was weird. _He _was weird. He was also pretty violent, too. Every since shell Haru began conveying the thoughts of spirit Haru, he began to hit her and shoot at her.

"I'm teaching you how to fight," he would say.

_Liar._

But he was a nice enough person when he wanted to be. She was glad to be in his company, even if he was violent and strange.

She tensed as she heard rustling. Cautious she scanned her surroundings. Was it another zombie attack? She shifted over to Reborn and moved to kick his head, but he grabbed her foot before it she could.

"What do you think you're doing?" He sat up, and pointed his gun at her. That also bothered her about him. She didn't know where he put them or where he pulled them out from. Spirit Haru was starting to believe he was pulling it out of thin air.

"Haru heard someone," she explained. "Please let go of my foot."

He obliged by jerking her foot forward and forcing her to fall over the deck and onto the ground. "You really need to improve your balance. It's a good thing I'm teaching you how," he said.

Suddenly, the sliding door of the house opened. A boy – he looked around Haru's age – stood in the doorway, glaring at them. He lifted his arms in a fighting stance and something on them gleamed.

"You're trespassing, herbivores," he told them. "For that I will bite you to death."

…*…

"We need to get out of here," Gokudera decided. "We'll stock up and then leave."

Tsuna frowned. "Is that really a good idea? I mean, it's nighttime. There's probably loads and loads of cannibals running amok. I-I think it'd be safer if we went d-during the day."

Yamamoto heard a crash coming from upstairs. "Did you guys–?"

"Shut it, baseball idiot!" Gokudera hissed, before returning his attention to Tsuna. "Well, who knows, Tsuna-sama? You might be right, but I've seen a lot of them in the day. But it's all up to you, Tsuna-sama."

Yamamoto could hear footsteps now. Someone was inside the house. "Guys, seriously! I just heard something!"

He was ignored.

"Er, well, I…I don't know," Tsuna admitted. He didn't look too comfortable to with being left in charge. His was spinning with ideas on what to do. "You're smart Gokudera; I guess…I guess we could go n-now?"

Gokudera looked ecstatic that Tsuna was agreeing with him. He bowed. "Thank you for believing in me, Tsuna-sama!"

Yamamoto could hear voices now. Someone or something was definitely in the house. He snatched his father's father sword. "Guys I think–!"

"_What?"_ Gokudera snarled. "_What_ the hell do you _want_?"

Yamamoto frowned, holding up the shinai. "Turn around."

Tsuna froze in fear. Gokudera swore.

A figure stood at the doorway of the living room, grinning. "Oh my little boy finally has friends," said the person. "It's a shame, though. That isn't enough for Mama to forgive you."

…*…

Shell Haru pulled out her knife. Spirit Haru disappeared. Reborn pointed his guns at the boy. The boy smirked. "What's this? You herbivores are going to fight to me?"

"Fight you?" Reborn shot at him three times. Haru sheathed her knife and spirit Haru had reappeared. Reborn had decided to fight him; there was no point for her to be involved now. "Fight you? This is purely one-sided. I wouldn't dream of ever calling it a fight."

He nicked boy's legs and purposely shot just short of his head. He fell to the floor. Glowering at them, he pushed himself up and pounced. Reborn smirked, side-stepping away. The boy did a flip in the air before landing on all fours, a few feet away from them.

"What's your name?" Reborn asked.

"Hibari Kyoya," he replied through gritted teeth. He raised his arms and Haru caught sight of what those silver things attached to his arms were. Tonfas. Strange weapon choice for a zombie – was he even one? She saw no chunks of missing skin, but he could have been hiding it. But even if he wasn't a zombie, it was still a weird weapon choice. He charged at Reborn. "Prepare to be bitten to death, herbivore!"

"I like you," said Reborn, grabbing Hibari by the arm and throwing him to the ground. Without letting go of the boy's arm, he forced the boy face to the ground, his foot resting on the back of his head. Reborn pulled out something from his pocket and pointed at Hibari's head. A ding resounded and he shoved it back into his pocket. "Not Infected. Good. Congratulations, you're going to join us, Hibari."

…*…

"We….we can't keep running from the UMAs!" Gokudera gasped. "We need to fight them!"

Tsuna shook his head, bending over and resting has hands on his knees. "I can't. I can't. Not again. Not again."

They had come across his Mama. His cannibalistic Mama. She tried to kill him. Again. But this time she tried to kill his friends, too. Yamamoto managed to trip her feet creating an opening for all of them. They bolted out the house, leaving their supplies behind. Now there were in some empty road.

"_Do you know how to make your Mama proud, Tsuna?" _

He darted toward the side of the road and vomited out the small amount of food he consumed today. Oh gosh. _Oh gosh_. It was his fault. Everything was his fault. It was his entire fault.

Why'd he have to go and wish society away? He didn't mean it – he didn't mean _any _of it! He was just tired of the bullies, of the look of disappointment that everyone seemed to give him. He just wanted it all to stop!

Tears blurred his vision. He felt someone patting him on the back. "It'll be okay." Yamamoto's voice. It was reassuring. It was nice…but it was filled with lies, too. "It's going to be okay, Tsuna. Don't worry. Things will get better, I swear."

But they wouldn't. Nothing would never get better. Not ever. "My fault," Tsuna found himself saying. "My fault. My fault."

"Nothing is your fault, Tsuna-sama!" Gokudera.

Tsuna just shook his head. "My fault. It's my entire fault. Everything. Everything. I'm so so so so sorry Mama."

* * *

><p>"People who are out to find fault seldom find anything else. It is a waste of time, no matter how much you find fault, it is not going to change anything. It's better to find a remedy."<p>

**James Dye**


	5. Childish Insanity

Kyoko didn't know when it all had started. All she knew was that it started with her classmates eating one another and ended with the entire town doing the same. Her big brother tried to find excuses for it ("They were just filming a new horror movie!") but she knew better. She knew it was bad. One look at the empty streets of Namimori, she knew it was very bad. And after being unable to find their parents, she knew the situation was very, _very _bad.

Her brother, he sweet older brother, tried his hand at supporting them. He locked all the doors and sealed the windows. He moved them to the basement of their family's store.

Kyoko helped in many ways, too. She rationed their food and cleaned the basement best she could so that they could live comfortably. She also managed to find their old battery powered radio and several unused batteries.

Many stations were covering what was going on. Apparently people were being infected with some sort of disease that causes them to crave the flesh of others. And if one were to come into contact with bodily fluids of the Infected, they too would become like them. If they didn't die first, that is. No one knew where the virus strand came from, but it was deadly.

And only limited to Namimori.

A zombie apocalypse is what some stations called it. She disliked listening to those stations.

"Hey, Kyoko?" Ryohei said. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Just a bit tired, big brother," said Kyoko. "Say, how long do you think we'll have to stay here?"

"'Til the food and water runs out, I guess."

"I see."

"And Kyoko?"

"Yes, big brother?"

"You've been extremely extreme these past few weeks. I'm extremely proud of you!"

She smiled. "Thanks, big brother."

…*…

**4.** Childish Insanity

…*…

Kyoko woke up with a start. She heard voices. Loud voices. From above. Were….were they the Infected? Fear bubbled up inside of her. She crawled over to her brother. "Big brother," she said, nudging him awake. "Big brother, I think someone broke in the store."

Her brother shot out of his cot, fights raised. "WHAT IS IT?"

"Shh!" Kyoko hissed. They both froze. The voices were getting louder and louder. "Do…do you think they'll find the…"

The trapdoor swung open. Light flooded the basement.

And for the first time in all her fifteen years, Kyoko swore.

…*…

Hana was not in the mood for this tomfoolery. Quite frankly, she wasn't in the mood for anything lately. She scratched the inside of her elbow – it was red and covered in hives, as much of her skin was. It wasn't fair. None of it. It was like something out there was playing a cosmic joke on her.

Her parents, upon hearing about some widespread and highly contagious virus that caused people to go cannibalistic – it sounded like something from a low budget horror flick to Hana – was in town, decided to leave Namimori immediately. They took little clothing, little food and lots of money, and had headed straight for the city's airport.

Unfortunately, it seemed most of Namimori decided the same. As did the alleged cannibalistic folk. Within seconds the airport was in pandemonium. People were screaming and shouting, pushing away from the cannibals that seemed to grow and grow within seconds. Hana almost got trampled. Her mother, however, wasn't as luck as her daughter and got trampled. Her father, the unluckiest of the three, succumbed to the virus and nearly killed Hana.

_"Just let me have a quick bite of you, sweetheart. C'mon, one bite!" _

She was lucky to escape with her life. She was even luckier to somehow make it back to her neighborhood unscathed. What wasn't lucky was finding her house to be infested with the cannibals at which she would be driven to another house.

A house with _children_.

Two kids. I-pin and Lambo. While they both caused her grief, irritation, and hives (she really needed to find some sort of allergy meds soon), they were good kids. Well, I-pin was a good kid – she didn't speak too much and was a big help. Lambo on the other hand…

"Lambo, get down from there right now!" Hana cried, running over to the raven-haired monkey and plucking him from the lamppost he was trying to climb.

He tried to shake her off. "Gyahaha, no way old Hagna!"

"You stupid little monkey, I told you to never call me that!" Hana held him the leg and shook him wildly. He thought he was so clever mixing her name with the word 'Hag', but he wasn't. "Now, keep your voice down. If you cause another bunch of those cannibalistic monkeys to appear, I swear, I'll throw you to them."

Lambo stared at her, wide-eyed. "Yo…you wouldn't do that to Lambo, right?"

She placed him down on the ground. "Try me, monkey boy."

He hugged her feet. "LAMBO IS SO SORRY – oops! Lambo is so sorry."

"C'mon," Hana said, pulling him to his feet. She ignored the new hives that appeared on her hands as she did so. He grasped her hand tight. More hives appeared. "Let's head over to that store. Hopefully they haven't been ransacked or filled with those monkeys yet. C'mon, I-pin."

The little Chinese girl, who had stood a few away and watched the exchange with curious eyes, hurried over to them. She took Hana's hand, her other one clutching her plushy tight.

"Hana-san wouldn't threw Lambo-kun to…to monkeys, yes?" I-pin asked quietly.

"You mean, 'Hana-san wouldn't have thrown Lambo to the monkeys, right?'" Hana corrected. "But yeah, I wouldn't have. Don't worry, I-pin. I would never do that."

I-pin smiled at her. "Okay!"

The little girl's Japanese was improving. It was a great difference than when she had first met her. She had to rely on Lambo most of the time before just deciding to teach the girl some Japanese herself. It was hard work, but it was worth it. At least I-pin now knew what was going on.

Hana didn't see the need to lie to them about what was going on. They might've been children and Lambo might've been a monkey, but they deserved to know what was happening to their town as well.

Plus, she already knew that, in some way or another, both children had seen first hand the extent of the atrocities the cannibalistic monkeys had done onto some unlucky souls. She knew that they were reason why Lambo would wake up in the middle of the night screaming, and why I-pin would hold her little plushy tight, crying herself to sleep.

Lying to them about it would be futile. Even if they didn't full grasp how dire the situation was, they still understood a fraction of it.

This made her angry. What the heck was her stupid monkey filled government doing about this? What was the rest of the world doing about this? Surely they knew that not everyone would be infected with the virus? To think otherwise would be ridiculously ignorant of them!

Hana's grip on both children's hand tightened. More hives appeared.

Children annoyed Hana. They bothered her. Irritated her. They were the cause of her hideous hives. She viewed them as nothing but a nuisance, as juvenile monkeys even. But no matter what the reason for it was, no child should have had ever gone through what they were going through.

…*…

Shell Haru's head hurt. Stupid Hibari kept hitting her in the head with his tonfa, requesting that she'd fight with him. And of course, there was Reborn insisting that by attacking shell Haru whenever spirit Haru asked about something he didn't like, he'd shoot at her.

She was in bad company.

"Haru should leave," she murmured, taking a small taste of the mushroom soup she was making. It tasted creamy and not as delicious as the first few cans she'd opened and served. Was she even making it right? Why did this house only have mushroom soup, anyway? She walked over to the counter and opened it again. There, all lined up, was cans and cans of mushroom soup. It almost seemed endless.

"But you aren't," Haru turned to see Reborn standing at the doorway. "Because if you do, I'll kill you."

"Haru thinks you won't kill her," she replied, returning to the soup. She stirred. A few more minutes then she'd serve it – that was what the can said anyway. "You'd need a partner then."

"I have Hibari."

"The only reason why Hibari hasn't attacked you yet, is because he's too busy attacking me."

"Regardless, I still have him."

"Haru doesn't like you anymore."

"Is that so?" he said, his breath tickled her neck. He'd somehow gotten behind her.

Shell Haru kept stirring, unaffected by his closeness. But spirit Haru shuddered. He was such a creep. He always invaded her personal space for no apparent reason. It was kind of creepy, too. It wasn't attractive at all – it was just plain creepy seeing as he was an old guy. She'd told him that on numerous occasions at which he'd just shoot his gun at her and then walk away, smirking.

He was really, _really_ creepy.

"Yeah," she replied. "You keep shooting at me and stuff."

"Haru?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you keep switching from third person to first person?"

She stopped stirring. Looked over at him, frowned. "Why the sudden curiosity, Reborn?"

He took a step back from her. There was a glint in his eyes. Haru didn't like that glint. "Because at first I thought you were one of those girls who did that to be cute. But now…I don't think so."

"There's two Harus in Haru," she said simply, returning her attention back to the soup. Two more minutes and it'd be done.

_You idiot, don't tell him about me!_ Spirit Haru hissed, but she was ignored.

"Two Harus?"

"Yes. Shell Haru and spirit Haru."

There was a pause. "I see," he said. "And how long exactly have there been two Harus?"

"Since we killed our parents. Spirit Haru doesn't like to come to terms with it, though. She stays out of shell Haru, me, and lets me do what I want," she said. "Well, most of the time. Other times I ignore her. Like right now. She doesn't want me to tell you about us."

He walked over to her and took the ladle from her hand. "You can you go set the table, I'll take it from here," he told her.

"Okay," she said.

_Great,_ spirit Haru grumbled. _Now he thinks we're crazy._

Shell Haru laughed. How funny, her spirit self was. She'd always been insane. She had just never known about it, unlike shell Haru who knew from the start.

After all, what sane human being sometimes wished for a zombie apocalypse? What sane person got excited and pumped after seeing their teacher be killed and eaten? What sane person convinced herself that she was in a zombie apocalypse and ignored all other and more rational reasons for what was going on? What sane person killed their parents? What sane person cut their hand after it was bitten by their father who might've been just cannibalistic? What sane person willingly went with some strange man to kill cannibalistic people? What sane person talked to herself? Convinced herself that they were two beings within one body?

It was simple, no sane person did.

Shell Haru laughed even harder.

* * *

><p>"It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane."<p>

**Philip K. Dick**

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

In case you guys didn't know, in Japan girls speak in third-person to appear cute and whatnot. I find that pretty interesting as doing that where I live give you odd looks.

Oh and I realize I haven't thank you guys and gals who reviewed so far. So, uh, thanks! You guys and gals are crazy awesome for actually bothering to read this craziness, ha-ha.

Thanks again!


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